Forging A New Path
by AnarchyX-Phile
Summary: Set during "One Son" (S6,E12). What happens when Mulder pushes Scully past her breaking point? Forgiveness isn't always an option.
1. Chapter 1

I know my tagline is no angst, but I'm going to suspend that for this story because I've been wanting to write about this episode (One Son) but have been putting it off because it's a bit too angsty. Recently, it got stuck in my head and refused to even let me sleep so I couldn't put it off any longer. I have it completely written but I broke it into FOUR separate chapters to keep your eyes from bleeding from so much text! While this first chapter paints Mulder in a justifiably bad light, this story isn't a total bash fest; trust me, you'll like where I'm going with this.

I feel like the original writers did an injustice to Scully (as usual) by having her just shrug this episode off and continue on like it didn't matter. There _should_ have been some personal blowback from Mulder's actions in this episode and the fact that there wasn't, frankly, makes Scully look weak and masochistic.

Everyone has their breaking point, and this was Scully's. I hope you enjoy.

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**Forging A New Path**

I don't own The X Files or its characters. The X Files is the property of Chris Carter, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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**Chapter 1 by AnarchyX-Phile**

"You ask me to trust no one and yet you trust her on simple faith."

"Because you've given me no reason here to do otherwise."

"Well then, I can't help you anymore."

"Scully, you're making this personal."

"Because it is personal, Mulder. Because without the FBI, personal interest is all that I have. And if you take that away, then there is no reason for me to continue."

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That had been three days ago, and it didn't get any easier for Scully to remember Mulder's words. He hadn't apologized—she had known he wouldn't but she still prayed that he would. She had managed to avoid him after their meeting with Kersh and Skinner, feigning a stomach bug followed by a headache but she knew he wasn't going to stay away much longer. Try as she may—and truly, she had tried her best—she couldn't forgive him. Not this time. It was one time too many.

How many nights of sleep had she given him? How many holidays had she missed with her family because he pulled her away on a case? How many weeks had she spent in the hospital because of situations he put her in? She knew it was a dangerous job, but no other agent landed in the hospital more than she did.

She looked around her empty apartment and felt her throat tighten as a tear streamed down her cheek. How many men had she turned down for him? She knew it was unfair to blame him for her non-existent personal life, but she couldn't help it. For six years, Mulder had dangled a carrot in front of her, giving her just enough of a taste to keep her interested, to keep her loyal. He had once blamed himself that she didn't have a family of her own—and now she blamed him too.

Making it personal? Of course it was personal! How did he not understand that? After six years of giving up everything for him, he threw her away for Diana Fowley. Without hesitation. She had laid her life on the line more times than she could count, for him. She couldn't remember the number of times she had lost her job because of his stunts, if Skinner hadn't been on their side, she damn sure wouldn't have her badge right now. She had always trusted him even when all the evidence told her not to. No matter how he wounded her, she was always by his side, patiently waiting for him to dole out appreciation that never came.

She used to be strong, a pillar of independence; how could she have let this happen? How could she have thrown away so much of her own identity for someone else? When had she become so weak and submissive? Looking back at some of her behavior over the last few years, she was utter embarrassed at her lack of self-respect. She was no longer the woman her parents raised her to be—but she could be her again.

Her face was swollen and hot from all the tears and she brought her hands up and pressed her palms against her cheeks to try and cool them down, but it didn't help. She reached for the phone and sobbed when her finger automatically went to speed-dial #1, Mulder; she pressed #2 and waited anxiously for her mother to answer. Each ring broke her heart a little more and more and when Maggie finally answered, all she could do was cry.

"Dana, honey. Is that you?" She tried her best to answer and thankfully Maggie was able to understand. "What's the matter? Are you hurt?"

"Mom, I... I can't do this anymore."

"Do what? Dana? What are you talking about?" It was obvious that she was frightening Maggie and she hated herself for doing that. A mother must care so much about her child—and in that moment, Scully was terribly jealous of the life her mother had.

"Mom, I have to leave." She heard herself say.

"Honey, try and calm down. I'm coming over, I'll be there in ten minutes and you can explain everything to me. You know I've always kept you safe, I can do that now." A few miles away, Margaret Scully was throwing on her coat over her pajamas before leaving her house and jumping in her car. She was so worried about Dana that she couldn't even remember driving to her apartment or running up the stairs. When she rounded the corner, her heart stopped when she saw Dana leaning against the front door jam as she waited on her.

Maggie rushed to her and wrapped one arm around her back while her other hand closed and locked the door behind them. Once she had gotten both of them seated on the couch, she wiped her daughter's face dry and began blowing cool air against her red face. "What's upset you?" She asked; she knew it had something to do with Fox, there was nothing else in this world that could upset her daughter like that man could.

"I can't stay here mom, I can't live this life anymore... it's killing me." Scully clawed at her mother's pants leg, trying to get closer to her so she could wrap her arms around her. How long had it been since she received comfort from someone who loved her? She couldn't remember and that made her cry harder.

"What's killing you, honey?" Maggie asked soothingly, tightening their embrace and cupping the back of Dana's head, running her fingers through her tangled hair. She had seen her daughter at her worst, but tonight she saw something in her daughter's eyes that she had never seen before: hopelessness. She had always been a fighter and her broke her heart to see her utterly defeated.

"Mulder... he... Mom, he doesn't trust me, he didn't even choose me. After everything... he wouldn't even _choose_ me." She sobbed, burying her head in Maggie's shoulder. Maggie began rocking them back and forth, trying to set up a rhythm even though Dana was fighting her a bit; she knew the motion would help her relax but Dana would have to accept the motherly gesture first—and Dana so hated showing weakness. "He said that... right to my face, Mom. In front of our friends. I hate him."

"Oh sweetheart, you don't mean that."

"I do. I hate him. So much it makes me sick." She said, wanting so much for her mother to understand the depth of her pain. "As much as I loved him, that's how much I hate him now. I can't work with him anymore, I don't ever want to see him again. I've given him so much and all he does is take even more from me. I can't look at his face without hearing those words, Mom. Over and over and over again; every time I close my eyes, he's there laughing at me. Poor pathetic Dana Scully...not even Dana... just Scully. It's eating me up, it's killing me, Mom." Her head fell against Maggie's shoulder and her chest began jumping sporadically as she sobbed.

Maggie squeezed her tighter and closed her eyes. "I don't want you to live in pain. If you can't get over this, then we'll leave."

"We?"

"There's nothing keeping me in DC except for you, honey. I'll go where you go, you won't ever be alone. You are never alone." Maggie leaned back out of their embrace to see Dana's face. "Do you want to leave? _Really_ leave? This is a huge decision and it won't be easy. Fox won't let you go, he'll go crazy looking for you. He'll find you, you know that."

"He won't. Not now, he doesn't need me anymore. And it won't matter if he does look, he won't find me." Maggie must have looked unconvinced because Dana began struggling to explain an FBI protocol in the midst of her sobbing. "There are measures set up in the event an agent needs to disappear. It's not common but it is available under extreme circumstances. It's a new life, a new chance. Something I won't ever have if I stay here. There's nothing keeping me here either, Mom. Just you."

Maggie nodded sadly and hugged her again, "don't make any decisions right now. Try and sleep tonight. In the morning, if you're still set on going through with it, we'll pack up and leave. Okay?" Scully nodded her head and kissed Maggie's cheek. "And listen. Poor pathetic Dana Scully doesn't exist—you're the strongest woman I've ever seen. Do you understand me?" Scully shook her head but Maggie didn't press the issue, now wasn't the time.

As soon as she got Dana calmed down and asleep on the couch, Maggie made a loop through the apartment and started cleaning as she tried to sort her thoughts and emotions. She had half a mind to call Fox right now and demand to know what happened—him not '_choosing' _Dana didn't make sense without context—but she didn't want to betray Dana's trust, especially right now when she was most vulnerable.

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After two hours, the apartment was spotless but Maggie was still too antsy to settle in for the night. Maybe a walk would do both of them good? She walked into the living room and stared down at her sleeping baby; the only daughter she had left. Her heart ached knowing how long she must have held this turmoil inside before it broke through the surface and shattered her.

She was just getting ready to wake her up when Dana bolted upright on the couch and sucked in a deep, tortured breath. Maggie rushed to her side and pushed the hair from her eyes, "it was just a dream, I'm here. You're loved. I'm here." She whispered into her ear, like she had when Dana was growing up. She wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly while Dana finished waking up enough to calm herself down.

"I hate him, mom" she whispered in agony, her chin jumping uncontrollably with emotion as she fought back tears. "Other people don't hurt like this, do they?" She asked, truly wondering if love was always this hard.

"No, baby. Love shouldn't hurt, at least not like this. Was there... a reason he trusted this other person over you?"

Scully shook her head and pressed her hands against her ears to keep from hearing Mulder's words again. Maggie nodded her head and began rocking her again; and as much as Maggie loved Fox, in that moment, she hated him as much as her daughter did. Maybe even more. She may not fully understand the situation but she did know two things: Fox Mulder did not understand women at all, and his and Dana's relationship had been destined to fail from the beginning.

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Four hours later, Scully crept out of her bedroom and silently made her way to the front door. There was too much that needed to be done and she couldn't wait until morning. Luckily she knew her apartment better in the dark than she did in the light and Maggie never even heard a floorboard creak as Scully slipped into a black trench coat and tiptoed out the front door.

She was exhausted and would have preferred taking a cab but she would have had to call one at this late hour and likely would end up stranded once she was ready to come back home. So she wearily climbed into her car, cranked the engine, and smacked her cheeks softly to try and wake herself up enough to drive safely. There wouldn't be too many people on the roads at this hour. It was safer that way.

Ten minutes later, she pulled her car into an upscale neighborhood; she imagined herself living inside one of the many windows and how different her life would have been if she had made just a few different choices. Medicine instead of government work, homicide instead of the X Files. Her imaginary life ended abruptly when her eyes landed on the address she was looking for and her real life crashed back over her. She parked and ran into the apartment building, barreling up the stairs so fast that she nearly lost her footing.

When she reached the right door, she lifted her fist and started pounding on the wood, picturing it was Mulder's chest as she pounded some sense into him. It didn't work, it never did. After a few minutes, the door ripped open and Scully dropped her hand down with an apologetic look on her face.

"Agent Scully, this had better be important." A.D. Skinner said as he quickly tied his robe belt around himself.

She opened her mouth and got ready to spit out her code word—the one word that would change the rest of her life. How could one word mean so much? But then again, there was nothing more powerful than words; working in X Files had taught her that. In the end, usually all they had left were words. "Riviera."

She watched Skinner's eyes grow big and if she had been physically capable of it, she might have laughed. But she couldn't laugh. Not right now. "Come in." He said, stepping to the side and pulling her in by grabbing her shoulder. "Are you sure?" He asked, turning on an overhead light and facing her head-on so that he could see her face. He was checking her pupils to see if she was under the influence.

"Riviera."

He sighed heavily not only at the amount of paperwork that he would now have to do but due to the fact that he was losing an agent he truly did have the utmost respect for. "Okay. I'll make it happen. We'll meet at 1757 Ninth Street. Tomorrow morning at 4:37. Be ready to board a plane immediately after."

"Two tickets, my mother is coming."

"Okay, but I can't provide her with documentation. You understand that? I can only do you."

"I know, I'll take care of her." She wanted to say thank you, but this wasn't exactly a situation that called for gratitude.

She turned to leave the apartment but stopped when she felt him tap her on the shoulder and clear his throat. "Does Agent Mulder know?" She turned her head until she could see him out of the corner of her eye. She shook her head and watched him try and hide his shocked expression. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Don't be late."

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Her next stop brought back a tidal wave of memories, memories that stung harder and harder with every passing day. Funny, bad memories usually didn't work that way. But then again, Mulder was atypical so it made sense that memories of him would also work differently than the rest of the world.

She stepped out of the car and the gravel driveway mixed with her utter exhaustion made her footing uneasy as she worked her way to the building. When she reached the large metal door, she glanced at her wrist and then growled annoyingly when she realized she had forgotten her watch at home. She didn't think it was 5:00 yet but the Gunmen were just going to have to get over it, she needed to hurry back before her mother woke up at 7:00. She banged on the metal door as hard as she could and then rang the doorbell, looking up at the video camera pointing down at her face as though she could telepathically tell Frohike to hurry up and open the door.

As soon as the door cracked open, she shoved her way into the building. "I'm sorry to come by so early, but it's an emergency." She walked into their office and dropped her jacket on a desk chair before turning to see who had let her in. Langley. "I'm going to need Byers and Frohike too. They don't have to dress first, I'm in a bit of a hurry." She cringed when he just yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I'm really sorry, I just couldn't put this off."

"I'll go get them. Coffee pot is over there if you want some." He said as he shuffled off towards the back section of the building she'd never seen before. While she waited, her eyes flicked over to the place where Mulder had stood as he broke her heart... broke her spirit. Her eyes began stinging so she swiped annoyingly at them and went into the kitchen to make the boys a pot of coffee.

Her hands were shaking wildly as she tried pouring a pitcher of water into the coffee maker and a good bit of the water spilled and splashed onto the floor but she had managed to get enough into the maker to cover three cups of coffee so she counted that as a success. Life without Fox Mulder. What was that going to be like? She could hardly remember a time when he wasn't in her life... a time when he wasn't her life.

She swallowed nervously and turned around when she heard the men drag themselves into the kitchen. She wished she could repay them for what they were about to do, but there was nothing good enough for a repayment. She apologized again for getting them out of bed, but then decided that it was probably best to just dive in. Straight into the deep end. With an anchor tied to her foot. But she would survive. She always did.

"I need to disappear, to become untraceable."

"For how long?" Frohike asked, perking up slightly at the disturbing thought of not having her around for a while.

"Forever." Frohike's forehead wrinkled in confusion, like he didn't quite understand the concept of forever. He opened his mouth and she could already see his lips forming the word and she stopped him. "Mulder doesn't know and he can't know where I'm going."

He looked dejected but he nodded his head. Honestly, he didn't blame her for wanting to leave. The Gunmen had talked about it from time to time and had marveled at her loyalty to Mulder. After the incident with Diana Fowley, Frohike would have been more surprised—and frankly a bit disappointed—had she stayed with Mulder.

It had taken all of his willpower not to punch Mulder in the face when he had looked into Scully's eyes and chose Diana over her. He would _always_ choose Scully last and Frohike couldn't wrap his head around that. He would give anything in this world or the next to be in Mulder's shoes; to have a woman as talented and beautiful as Dana Scully look at him the way she looked at Mulder. Frohike would do anything for her, even if it meant never seeing her again.

"We can do it." Byers said, giving Frohike a sad, comforting look before walking into their office and booting up all their computers. "We'll all work separately so none of us know the full details of where you'll be. So if one of us talks... not all the pertinent information is leaked."

"I'm getting a new identity from the FBI tomorrow morning. I need another one from you in case... someone figures out the FBI's new identity. I also need a new identity for my mother. Margret Scully." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, "these are our bank account numbers, can you have all the funds in both accounts transferred into something that's untraceable?"

"I can open up an offshore account and funnel all the money into it." Byers said as his fingers began flying across his keyboard. "Use cash for everything, if you've got to have a credit card, get a prepaid card."

Langley sat down at his computer, "I'm going to wipe all your current data from the system, it'll be like you never existed." Scully nodded her head and turned away, unable to stop the tears from falling. Her life...gone with a keystroke. "I'll flag your name too so if anyone tries to find you or dig into your disappearance, we'll know about it."

"I'll make your new identity, give you some credit history and education. Want to stay in the medical field?" Frohike asked, hopping up in his chair and taking a large swallow of coffee before he began typing on his keyboard too.

"Yes, I want to keep my qualifications the same. Minus the FBI, of course."

Over the next two hours, they completely erased Dana Scully from every system they could think of and reinserted Katherine Newgate, M.D. Recently divorced and relocating with her widowed mother, Shannon Howard. They made her a driver's licenses, social security card, passport, birth certificate, even notarized divorce settlement papers.

They bundled up all information, went over her new identity again, and gave her a list of instructions. "Thank you, I know Mulder is going to make your lives hell for a while but... well, I have to do this. I'm sorry, if there was another way..."

Frohike shook his head and walked up to her, giving her a brief hug and handing her an envelope. "It's all the cash we had in the safe, it's not much but it'll hold you over until all your banking is in order."

"No, I can't take this."

"You're taking it. It's collecting dust here and you need it. You can pay us back if you're ever in DC again."

"Or Vegas," Byers chuckled as he stuck his hand out for her to shake but she shook her head and gave him a hug as well.

"Langley, you get one too," she said as she waved him. He shuffled over with an uneasy grin on his face, like he expected Mulder to burst down the door the moment he put his hands on Scully. But no one busted through the door.

"If you need to contact us, use this phone. Keep it turned off unless you call us. I've saved each of our numbers in the phone, if any other number calls this phone, don't answer it. Turn it off, remove the battery, and microwave it." Byers said, handing her a package with a burner phone and a charger.

"Popcorn setting works perfectly," Langley joked, trying to lighten the heaviness that had settled over the room during the last 2 hours.

"You can mail anything you want to us to this address. It's all monitored. Once you know where the FBI is sending you, we'll set you up a PO Box to receive our mail from. Any mail you get from us, microwave it as soon as you can in case any trackers have been added to the envelope during transit."

A week ago, she would have asked if they had a tinfoil hat for her to wear as well, but she knew how far Mulder went when he became obsessed with finding someone, and it didn't seem like a stretch of the imagination that he would try and track her mail if he had the chance.

"Did you want to leave him a note or anything?" Frohike asked, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily.

"No. There's nothing I want to write him." She said, gathering up everything and walking slowly to the door. "But, tell him... tell him this was _my_ choice."


	2. Chapter 2

**Forging A New Path**

I don't own The X Files or its characters. The X Files is the property of Chris Carter, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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**Chapter 2 by AnarchyX-Phile**

Mulder collapsed on his couch and ran his hands down his face; he was tired but too damn restless to sit still. He had spent more time at the gym in three days than he had in six months. He had tried calling Scully a few times on Friday evening but she never answered. She had left a message late that night saying she had a stomach bug and told him not to come around. He got her hidden message though, it was clear in her tone despite her words. She didn't want to see him.

He wanted to explain to her why he'd made the decisions he did, why it seemed like he was favoring Diana over her. Scully was a fighter; to her, there were clear sides and absolutely no middle ground. But to him, Diana was that middle ground. She knew the enemy's secrets, she'd worked alongside them and knew answers to questions he hadn't even thought to ask yet. Scully was threatened by Diana—women tended to be territorial, even without a concrete romantic connection, and both Scully and Diana were strong willed women.

Scully should know she has nothing to worry about—he would never trust or love Diana like he did her. She was his past, but Scully was his present and future. Surely she knew that. Of course there was no way he could_tell_her that, they never spoke of things like that, but there was no way she didn't feel hiscommitment to her. Was there?

He still dreamed about her face though, the way her expression fell when he told her that there was nothing she could say to make him distrust Diana. He wished he had said it a different way; his harshness had obviously upset her and now that he had had time to sit back and replay it a thousand times in his head, he didn't blame her for being so angry. So disappointed.

He couldn't imagine what he would do if she threw him aside to go to another man—a man she had a history with, a man she seemingly had more faith in. It infuriated him just to think about it. He knew it would never happen though, she would never betray him like that... and that was the moment he realized how royally he had fucked up.

He looked over at his clock and sighed. It was a little after 11:00, he should probably shower, head to bed, and just talk to Scully at work tomorrow, but he needed to hear her voice first. He knew it would help him sleep better. He picked up his phone, hit her speed-dial and counted the rings until the call was answered. "Hello?"

"Uh... Is Scul—is Dana in?" He said, his brows furrowed in confusion at why someone else answered her phone.

"Fox? It's Maggie. Dana isn't well. I'll be staying with her for a while, but I'll let her know you called." Without waiting for a response, she ended the call. Mulder slumped back against the couch again and began to worry. Scully didn't get sick often and he worried that he was the cause of it. Had he upset her so much that it had made her sick? Sick enough to need her mother?

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The next morning, Mulder paced the office for two hours waiting for Scully to arrive, but she never did. He called up to Skinner's office but was told he was in a meeting and couldn't take a phone call. Another hour passed and he finally decided to call her apartment again. His heart dropped to the floor when, instead of her voice—or even Maggie's voice, he got a 'no longer in service' message. He called her cell phone and got the same error message.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn't happening. Where the fuck was she? He ran up the stairs and rushed into Skinner's office, his eyes narrowing when he saw that Kersh was also in the office. "What the fuck is going on? Where is Scully?"

"Agent Mulder, why don't you sit down? We were actually just discussing this." Skinner said, giving him a hard, warning stare as he pointed towards the empty chair next to Kersh. That was Scully's chair, he couldn't sit there. He walked over to the chair but stood behind it, gripping the back rest with all his strength.

"Agent Scully has left the Bureau. As of right now, we have decided not to assign you a new partner. Agent Mulder, she won't be coming back and it's quite impossible, at this point, for her to do so."

"Where is she?"

"We're not at liberty to say."

"Is she safe? Is she okay?"

"She's safe and is in no danger."

Mulder could feel his throat tightening, he couldn't breathe and he bent forward and closed his eyes to keep from getting sick. How could she leave the Bureau without talking to him first? Why would she disconnect her numbers? His vision began to darken and he knew he was on the verge of passing out. He took in a deep breath and it felt like there was a pound of crushed glass in his lungs. Every bone in his body ached and his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He stumbled out of the office, not even hearing Skinner or Kersh calling his name.

Scully.

He drunkenly made his way to his car, his fingers were uncooperative as he struggled to fit the key in the door to unlock it; his ankles were rubbery and bent at odd angles that looked painful but he didn't notice. He got into the car and slammed his head hard against the steering wheel. He looked into the rear view mirror and saw his pale face staring back at him. No blood. He slammed his head into the steering wheel again and again until he finally saw a puffy bruise rise up on his skin.

Scully.

He cranked the car and ripped out of the parking garage as though he was racing for his life. Well... he kind of was. He needed to see Scully, he needed to talk to her, to fix whatever was wrong, to convince her not to leave the X Files... not to leave him.

Please, Scully.

When he got to her apartment building, there were no street parking slots open so he pulled halfway onto the sidewalk, just enough for passing cars to still use both lanes, and he ran into the building, taking the stairs two-at-a-time until he got to her floor. When her door was in sight, he leaned over and threw up. He knew what was going to be on the other side of that door—or more aptly put, what was _not _going to be on the other side of the door: Scully.

He forced his feet to move his body forward while his hands searched blindly in his pocket for his key ring. During the full minute he struggled to unlock and open her front door, he prayed to a God he didn't believe in for a woman he had put all his faith in.

When the door swung open, he felt some relief dampen his fears. The furniture was still there, blankets were thrown on the couch, her television was still in the full entertainment system he'd helped her assemble a few years ago. He walked deeper into the apartment and arched his neck to look into the kitchen; it was spotless but there were still bottles in the wine rack, a dish towel was laid out to dry on the oven handle. Maybe she'd just stepped out for a couple hours, perhaps to the pharmacy to get some medicine.

He stuck his head into the bathroom and fear punched through his stomach again as he noticed all her toilettes were missing. He went through her medicine cabinet and vanity drawers and found no makeup, no perfume, no lotion; there was no soap or shampoo in the shower.

His vision began darkening again and he stumbled into her bedroom. The bed was perfectly made, and all of her books were still arranged neatly on her bookshelf. He went to her closet and eased the door open and then dropped to his knees. Everything was gone: all her suitcases were gone (even the one with the squeaky wheels that he knew she hated), dresses, clothes, pajamas, shoes. She had left him nothing.

He crawled over to her bed and pushed himself onto it, lying cross-ways on his stomach with his head buried in her pillows. He began crying, and with each intake of air, he smelled her on the pillows and he cried harder. "Come back... Scully, come back to me," but there was nothing left in the apartment to hear him.

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_**Two Months Later**_

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He fell out of the car and staggered up to the large metal building, not even caring enough to shut his car door so the interior lights would go off. It would probably drain the battery and he'd be stuck here. It didn't matter though. He was always _stuck _somewhere; he didn't live anymore, he just stuck around, day after day.

When he finally got to the door, he banged sluggishly on it until it swung open to reveal Frohike with a Chinese takeout box in his hand. "Eating your heart out 'cause she left ya?" he slurred.

Frohike gave him a dirty look. "She left _you_, Agent Mulder. And you should try eating your next meal instead of drinking it. You might live longer." Without saying anything else, he turned and walked away, leaving Mulder to either follow him or pour himself back into his car and drive away.

"Yeah, well life's not really worth living anymore. Not without her." Mulder mumbled under his breath as he followed him into their office. Byers wasn't there but Langley was seated in his desk chair wearing large earphones and writing profusely in a notebook.

"Look, I'll cut the crap." Mulder said and he ran his hands down his face to wake himself up. "I know you know where she is. I _know _you do. And I know you won't tell me, but will send this to her?" He asked, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a thick envelope; before he handed it over, it pressed the letter to his heart for a few seconds and then gave it to him.

Frohike ran his hands over the letter, feeling for anything other than the letter itself in case Mulder had tried to slip in a GPS tracker. He then tossed it into a microwave and started typing in a heating time.

"Be careful!" Mulder said, taking a step towards him and looking at the microwave as though it was a bomb. "It took me a long time to write that..." He wanted the letter to be clean and perfect for her; while he had wrote it, if he had to scratch out a word or two, he'd get out a clean sheet of paper and completely start over. Scully was well worth the extra effort. He'd spent over three days writing the letter; writing down all his thoughts and getting everything they had left unsaid said. He had lost count of how many times he wrote that he loved her. He needed her to know that, above all else. She needed to know that she was loved and very, very sorely missed.

He didn't write about what his life had turned into, he couldn't burden her with that. He never mentioned how many times he had tasted the barrel of his gun, it wasn't her fault that he was so weak. He also didn't mention how he had taken over the rent for her apartment, and would continue to pay it until either she returned or he died. He didn't think she would like knowing how often he went to her apartment, unlocked the door with the key she had entrusted to him so many years ago, and laid in her bed and cried. How it broke his heart that after two months of doing that, her pillows smelled like him now instead of her. She was slowly disappearing from his memory and it was tearing his heart apart.

He didn't have many photographs of her, just some he had stolen from Mrs. Scully through the years; sometimes he would say phrases she used to say and pretend it was her saying them. He would play out old conversation they had had or he'd reread her college dissertation. After a month and a half, he'd driven himself to the edge of insanity. He could no longer imagine her voice correctly, the voice in his head was higher than her voice was. It was maddening.

In a fit of utter despair, he had gone to the office and dug through closed case files until he found one with an autopsy tape included. It didn't matter that she was calculating organ weights and describing strange physical anomalies, all Mulder could hear was her beautiful, soul-soothing voice. The calm and gentle lilt flowed through his body like a drug and he fell asleep on the office floor, clutching that damn tape recorder like it was Scully herself.

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_**One Month Later**_

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After three months, he had reach the bottom and he knew he couldn't continue living without her. The smallest task now required all his strength and he slept most of the day; he no longer showered regularly or bothered to keep up his appearance. His beard was a mess and, as a whole, it wouldn't have been a stretch of the imagine to think he was homeless.

There truly was no point to his life anymore. He hadn't cared about an X File in so long that he marveled at the fact that he was still getting a paycheck. His apartment had become one massive case file dedicated to figuring out where Scully had gone, and he was no closer now than he had been the day she left him.

The Gunmen were no help—he'd tried bribing them, blackmailing, and threatening them but nothing worked. In his heart, he couldn't hate them for it—they were doing what they thought was right, but goddamnit he _hatedv _them for it. Skinner had threatened to fire him if he asked for her location one more time and Bill Scully had hung up on him the five times he'd called him.

So, with no other option, he picked up his phone and called the one person he knew that could put him on the right track. It would be the last time he ever spoke to her, and while that may have saddened him at one point, he was only angry that he had to call her now. "Diana, it's Mulder," he said once she answered. He started squeezing the phone tightly as all the anger within him rose up and bubbled over his depression. "I need to talk to him. Smoking Man, CGB, or whatever his goddamned name is. I need to see him tonight. _Now_. As soon as possible." He didn't even wait for her to say something. He didn't want to hear her voice. Out of everyone he hated right now, he hated that woman the most.

Well. That wasn't true. He hated himself the most.

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Two hours later, there were three strong knocks on his apartment door. He had been pacing in the kitchen and tripped over a dining room chair as he ran to the door. He attempted to make his face look less desperate even though a quick glance around his apartment would quickly reveal just how desperate he was.

"You know how to find her, so don't bother lying to me. I don't have time for it." He said the moment he opened his apartment door and smoke drifted into his face.

Smoking Man stared at him a moment, a sickly yellow smile on his face. "I have no idea who you're talking about, Mr. Mulder." He said while grey whisps of smoke seeped out the corners of his mouth and drifted upwards with each word.

"Agent Scully. You know how to find her and I need that information. So what's it going to cost me?"

Smoking Man took in a deep breath and stepped into the apartment, dropping his cigarette on the hardwood and stomping out the lit end with the heel of his shoe. "Agent Scully has left you? I hadn't heard." He walked into the living room and looked at all the photos, maps, and red string that littered the wall. He smiled in the midst of all the chaos. He walked up to the most recent photo of Scully that Mulder had been able to find and he ran a single finger down the side of her face, almost reverently.

"Don't touch that!" Mulder growled and reached around him and pulled the picture off the wall, pressing it face down against his chest. "What do you want in exchange?" He asked again; whatever Cigarette Man asked for, Mulder had already decided he was going to agree to anything.

Smoking Man gave him a polite smile that held an air of pity and he wiped his hands together. "She didn't tell me where she was going either. Good luck finding her, it would be a shame to lose her."

"Drop the act. You can't tell me that that chip in her neck is untraceable! That's not your style. So where is she?!" He squeezed his eyes shut and fought the desire to punch the wall or squeeze the man's neck until his eyes bulged out. "I'll close the X Files—hell, I'll fucking leave the Bureau if that's what you want—but you _will _tell me where she is or I am going to fucking kill you because I am a man with nothing to lose."

Smoking Man considered his words calmly and then smiled at him and nodded his head. "Fox Mulder owing me a favor... that could be very interesting." He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialed a number and turned away from Mulder. "I need a location for Case Study 100684DKS. The most recent 5 scans." There was a few seconds of silence as he waited for the information before hanging up and sliding the phone back into his coat pocket. "She went through a metal detector two days ago in Indianapolis. That's where all her other scans have been as well for the last 3 months." He walked to the front door and opened it, "do let me know how it turns out, Agent Mulder. You know how invested I am in your life."


	3. Chapter 3

**Forging A New Path**

I don't own The X Files or its characters. The X Files is the property of Chris Carter, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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**Chapter 3 by AnarchyX-Phile**

Three months. She kept track of every day on her calendar, like an AA member. _Hello my name is Dana.. no, Katherine Newgate and I have been Mulder-free for 92 days_. The 100 day mark would be here soon; neither she nor Maggie knew if it should be a day of celebration or mourning.

She'd mourned a lot during these long months. At first, she had busied herself with making their new apartment feel like a home, then she'd gotten a job at one of the city's finest hospitals. It was harder than she expected to shift her brain into being a doctor full time and not an FBI agent; she still found herself looking over her shoulder or clutching the gun hidden in her purse when she walked down an alleyway.

She liked the mental exercises her job required and she was usually so exhausted after a shift that she went straight to bed when she got home. On the days she didn't work, however, her mind revolved around the same questions: what was Mulder doing today? Did he miss her? It may sound bad, but she hoped he cried for her. She certainly cried for him. It seemed like every morning, she'd wake up with his name on her lips.

During that first month, she lost over 12lbs because she couldn't keep any food down. She would have lost more if her mother hadn't taken complete control of her meal planning and practically force fed her three meals and two snacks every day. They joined a gym a block from their apartment and worked out 3 nights a week; Scully even started taking a boxing class—which Maggie adamantly refused to watch and so she schedule a swim aerobics class for herself on those nights.

By the end of the second month, Scully was well on her way to reforming her own identify, picking up old hobbies that she had once been passionate about but had dropped because of Mulder and the X Files. She had found that she was most passionate about painting and her work littered the walls of the apartment...well, all except for a sketchbook she hid under her mattress that was full of sketches of Mulder. His face, his hands, his mouth, his black suit and her favorite red tie—last week she even sketched his dress shoes laying discarded next to her high heels.

She lost count of the number of times she picked up the phone and started dialing his number. The constant ache to hear his voice was much stronger than she had ever anticipated. Once she even got as far as letting it ring once before disconnecting the call. The small of her back burned for the touch of his hand and her fingers twitched uncontrollably whenever she remembered how his hair used to glide through her fingertips while checking him for a head wound.

In an act to better her relationship with her mother, she told Maggie about everything—except the sketchbook. If she was having a rough day, she no longer bottled it up within herself and hid it from the world. On the harder days, they cried together and ate ice cream and drank bottles and bottles of white wine. If nothing else, this change brought healing to her and Maggie's relationship.

Maggie used these moments together to give subtle pep-talks to boost Scully's self-esteem without being too overbearing. Yes, meeting Mulder may have changed her but the changes and developments were not all bad. She questioned her surroundings more now, her logical and scientific mind now processed information differently, she could look at an object and see it from a different prospective: the way Dana Scully saw it and the way Fox Mulder would see it.

She was a strong woman and—in hindsight—knowing and loving Fox Mulder had made her even stronger. Maybe not strong enough to return to DC, but strong enough to live the rest of her life with absolutely no regrets from their time together.

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Mulder landed in Indianapolis 12 hours after Smoking Man left his apartment. He knew it was silly to think it, but as soon as he stepped outside the airport and onto solid ground, he felt Scully in this city. Her voice in his head was louder here. He picked out a rental car and started driving around, trying to get a good feel for the city layout so he would know where to start looking. The streets were overly crowded this time day so he drove down several back streets until he ended up in a motel parking lot.

He booked a room and drug his suitcase into the cramped room. He needed to clean up and be presentable before he found Scully—she wouldn't want to see him like this, she didn't deserve that. He got his shaving kit out and began the slow process of shaving a 3 month old beard; when he was finished, he just stared at himself in the mirror for the longest time. He looked so young with a fresh face. In the mirror, he looked at the empty space beside him and imagined Scully standing there with him. She wouldn't be wearing shoes so she'd be looking up at him with a Mona Lisa smile on her lips, pleased with the appearance change but too shy to tell him so.

He knew one thing: after losing her for 3 months, he was never again going to be too scared or shy to tell her how beautiful and smart she is. She deserves compliments, hundreds of them every day—so many that she'd yell at him to stop being so nice and charming. He grinned at himself in the mirror thinking about how her face would go red from his praises and he prayed like hell that he would get to see that adorable blush again.

Freshly showered, he put on one of his better fitting suits and paired it with a tie she had given him two years ago for Christmas. He checked himself in the mirror and nodded his approval. He grabbed up the room key and hurried out the door only to have to turn around half a block later and rush back to the room to put on some deodorant he forgot. He couldn't remember ever being this nervous or excited before.

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It was nearing the end of the work day, so he quickly walked to the most respected hospital in the city and stood outside the staff entrance and waited to see a flash of red hair; God, he hoped she hadn't dyed it—what a shame that would be.

Finally, at 6:03, his heart started beating again after 3 tortuously long months.

She was beautiful, much more so than he remembered her being, more beautiful than any woman had a right to be. He let her walk half a block before he started following her, keeping his eyes glued to her bright hair as it glimmered in the sunlight. Had it always glimmered or was he just that much in love with her?

He got caught at a crosswalk and he bounced on his toes impatiently, trying to keep sight of her through the growing distance. He glanced at the crosswalk indicator and when he turned his attention back to Scully, she was nowhere to be found. He paniced and just ran across the busy intersection to try and catch up. He couldn't lose her now, not today. Please not again.

He ran to the last place he'd seen her and looked around for any fresh sign of her. There was a small fountain and sitting area about 100ft away and he started walking towards it. His body began to feel numb as he made his way to a section of benches. A street vender screamed loudly in his ear about fresh donuts and the man in front of him stopped walking, forcing Mulder to hurriedly dodge to the left so that he wouldn't hit him and knock him over.

When he turned his attention back to the sitting area, he felt his stomach fall to the sidewalk and he too immediately stopped walking. There she was, sitting on a bench by herself, staring out at the sunset reflecting off the splashing fountain water. He felt his heart begin pounding in his ears and his fingers tingled. His stomach felt heavy and it weighed his feet so much that he couldn't rush to her and take her into his arms as he had dreamed of doing. He opened his mouth but couldn't form the words.

He must have stood there for ten minutes debating the best way to go to her. Should he fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness? Grab her and wrap her in a tight hug? When she stood up and ran her fingers through her hair, he knew he needed to make his move now before he lost her again. He drug his feet forward and practically tripped his way over to her, his only saving grace was that she was facing away from him and didn't see his clumsy entrance.

He had thought about this moment for so long but the moment he stretched out his arms towards her, he realized that this was the very _last_ thing she wanted. She had run away and had hid from _him._ But he couldn't stop himself, he needed her more than he needed to live. He didn't exist without her and he was so damn tired of pretending like he could.

She reached down to pick up her briefcase and when she turned away from the fountain, she took a quick step backwards and her face froze in panic when her eyes met Mulder's face. Her briefcase fell forgotten to the ground and her hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him, tightening and tightening their embrace as he tried to draw her into him. He buried his face into the side of her neck and breathed in deeply; as soon as her scent flooded through him and he felt her arms around his neck, he finally knew what having a home felt like.

He didn't realize he was crying until he tried to talk to her. "Missed you...so much... God, Dana. I love you, I'm sorry... I love you."

She couldn't pretend even for one moment that she didn't want him. She wanted him desperately—she always had. She closed her eyes and let her fingers wander through his hair. "Mulder," she cried and her body began shaking. She heard his whispered confession and the weight of it made her sob and her tears soaked into his dress shirt.

But he didn't love her, not the way she wanted him too. He wouldn't have ever turned away from her if he truly loved her. No, he loved her as though she was an extension of his family, she was a substitute for the sister he had lost. She would never be his lover, his wife. He had searched and found her because he'd never been able to find Samantha.

He grabbed the sides of her face and pulled back so he could look at her. She looked the same as she had the last time he'd seen her; she was dressed a little differently, had lost some weight but her blue eyes still sparkled bright enough to light a fire in his heart. He tugged her forward and kissed her cheek, then moved up her face to her forehead before dropping down to kiss the sides of her nose. "I've thought of you every second of every day since you left. Goddamnit, I missed you." He said, his lips stretched thin in a grimace as he relived some of the pain he'd been living with without her. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her mouth in a desperate kiss.

She fleetingly told herself to pull away from him, he shouldn't be here, she shouldn't allow him to touch or hold her but he felt too good to step away from. She parted her lips and let his tongue sweep into her mouth and meet with her own tongue. His hold on her head tightened as he deepened the kiss, driving his tongue further into her mouth before pulling back to suck hard at her lips.

When they parted to catch their breath, He buried his face into her neck and continued kissing her there and whispering into her ear. "You're the most important thing in my life—don't you know that?" He asked, gritting his teeth as he spoke as all his emotion bubbled to the surface.

He brought his head up and looked around them, a few people were openly staring at them and passerbys were doing their best of looking disinterested but failing miserably. He wrapped his arm around her waist, "here, come with me?" He asked as he reached down and grabbed her briefcase with his free hand and then motioned towards the nearby street where his rental car was parked.

He didn't ever want to let go of her so he walked her to the passenger side and opened the door for her and held her hand tightly as she climbed in and took her briefcase from him. He hurried around the car and jumped into the drivers seat. But instead of cranking the car, he turned to face her and cupped her cheek in his hand. "God, you're so beautiful," he sighed as he leaned in and began kissing her again.

His taste and smell invaded her senses and 6 years worth of memories crashed over her; as his tongue moved against hers, she felt the exhaustion of the last three months all pile onto her at once and she could barely breath from the weight of it. She started crying, silently at first but it quickly turned into a heartbreaking sob; it must have been contagious because Mulder cried and sobbed with her until they were both exhausted and red faced.

He finally cranked the car and defogged the windows. "Can we talk? I'm staying at a motel a couple miles from here."

She shook her head and her tears reappeared. "Mulder, I can't." She was no where near ready for this confrontation. There was still anger in her heart and nothing good can come from that.

"Please, Scully... Dana. I'll do anything, just _talk_ to me."

She was silent for about half a minute but he didn't push her. She could take as long as she needed. "30 minutes, but then you go back home." He nodded his head in agreement even though he knew he was never going to leave her again. He navigated through traffic quickly but safely and within 5 minutes, they were sitting outside of a rundown motel. He should have booked someplace nicer but he'd only been concerned about finding her, not about what he was going to do after he found her.

"It's okay, Mulder," she said softly as she watched his face fall in disappointment while staring at the old building. He seemed angry with himself and it was such a small thing to be worried about. "Do you want to go in or talk out here?"

"Let's go in, it's clean." He promised, a frown still on his lips. It's not like he needed to impress her but, Jesus, he'd dreamed of this moment for months and he could have least made the setting comfortable and welcoming for her. He walked up to Room 4 and unlocked it, pushing the door open and motioning her through the door in front of him. She stepped into the room and sighed when she felt how cool the room was; she pressed her hands against her hot cheeks and then dried her face, glancing quickly at the open bathroom to see how badly her makeup had run.

"You can sit here," he offered as he drug a sitting chair from a corner and scooted it right next to the bed where he would be sitting. He grabbed a decorative pillow from the bed and put it behind her back so she would be more comfortable. She would have laughed at his attentiveness if it hadn't been crushing every piece of her already-shattered heart. He sat down on the bed and shifted until his legs were pressed against hers, as close as he could get without sitting in her lap. He grabbed her hands and cupped them in both of his hands, rubbing his thumb along her skin as if he needed the contact as a reminder that this was real. "How have you been? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mulder. Have you been okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." He lied and squeezed her hands tightly. "Well... no. But that doesn't matter right now. I've missed you so much." He raised his hand and cupped her face, letting his fingers slide into her hair.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes; as always, the scene at the Lone Gunmen's played out before her eyes and helped solidify the walls around her. "What did you want to talk about?" She asked without opening her eyes. He didn't deserve to know how much this affected her.

He scrunched his eyebrows together and huffed. "Us, Scully. I think I know why you left but I want to discuss it. I never got to talk to you before you left."

She shook her head and bit down on her lip. "I don't want to talk about that, Mulder. It won't change anything so there's no point."

"Did you get my letter?" He asked. She nodded her head but still refused to open her eyes. "Did you read it?" She shook her head and her bottom lip began quivering. "I wish you had."

"I wanted to—so many nights, I wanted to open it and see your words. But I couldn't, Mulder. I just...can't." She carried it with her everywhere she went, but she had never opened it.

"I just want one chance, Dana." He said softly, non-threateningly.

She opened her eyes and there was such anger burning in her gaze that he sucked in a deep breath and squinted his eyes. "Just one chance? Six years worth of chances wasn't enough? You want more? I left because there was nothing, _absolutely fucking nothing_, to keep me in DC."

His heart shattered but he could deal with that pain later. "I'm there, our work is there, our life."

"Y_our_ life, _your_ work. It was never mine and you know it. You never wanted to share any of it with me." He had always picked the cases, made all the travel arrangements without asking her about conflicting plans, and he kept pertinent information and witnesses to himself so that he always maintained the upper-hand while they investigated.

"That's not true! You're my partner, my best friend. There's no one else but you...there hasn't been in a very long time."

Her eyes narrowed in on him and she had to fight the desire to slap his face. No one else? Oh how she wished she had his selective memory. "Let me replay the scene for you then because I've certainly relived it enough to have it memorized. When I asked you to trust me—your partner of six years—with ample evidence to back me up, you refused and insulted me in front of our friends. You picked someone else and then belittled my reaction. That doesn't exactly support your statement that there's 'no one else,' does it?" She shoved his hands away from hers and then crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"I know, I should have never said that. You deserved better and I swear it'll never happen again."

"You're right, it won't happen again... because I left!" She shook her head and tried to stand up but he stopped her. "Talking about it doesn't help, Mulder! That broke me. I lost sight of myself waiting for you to see me...and you were **never** going to see me, appreciate me, trust me." _Love me._ "I need more than you can give me, Mulder. A clean break was my only option." She sucked in a deep breath and this time she couldn't stop her lips from shaking. "I loved you and you were my best friend too, but it's over now. Let me go."

"I can't live without you. I can't. I'm sorry, I've never been so sorry in my entire life. This is never going to be over. I love you." She rolled her eyes and looked away from him, towards the door but he grabbed the sides of her face again and forced her to look at him. "I do love you, there's nothing left of me without you."

"You'll find yourself again, Mulder. You will find a purpose. It won't take long—it never does with you." Her words weren't hateful, just full of weariness. He was an obsessive man and once he found the next creature or person to obsess over, he would put her out of his mind and move on. She'd seen it happen a dozen times before. How many times had they gotten close to admitting their feelings and moving forward before a UFO crash site sent them backwards and kept them at a professional arms-length?

She glanced down at her watch and straightened her back. She didn't have anywhere she needed to be but there was no healing being done and she just wanted to go home and sleep. "I have to go."

This time when she stood up, he didn't try and stop her but he was gnawing hard on his lip and she knew she wouldn't have the last word in this argument. She opened her mouth to say goodbye but the word got lodged in her throat, she closed her eyes and tried to find the strength to stand up straight and walk out of this room with her head held up.

_He ditched you. He didn't care about you then and the only reason he's here now is because you left and embarrassed him. He was obsessed with finding you because it was a solvable mystery, but nothing has really changed. He is the same, self-absorbed man you've been in love with for years—he has never loved you and will never understand you. Leave now. Before you lose yourself again._

With her resolve back in place, her back straightened and she marched towards the door. He didn't deserve a goodbye. She had given him everything she had for six years—and now he was asking for even more. Yet another chance. He'd bled her dry until there was nothing left for him to take, and then he had pushed her aside. For someone he thought was _better_. Well fuck that. She deserved better and she understood that now.

She wrenched open the door and as soon as she saw his rental car, she realized she had no way of leaving expect by foot. Since this was in a run down part of town, she'd have to walk a couple of blocks before she got to a street taxis worked. She went to take the first step out of the room when she felt his hand come down hard on her shoulder. He pulled her back into the room, spinning her around until the door was closed again and she was pressed up against it. He grabbed the back of her neck and forced her to tilt her head upwards. "I'm not letting you walk away, not this time."

He wished he could tell her more beautiful, romantic things but those didn't seem to be getting through to her; he had waited too late to say them and now she didn't care. Right now though, the anger flowing through him was more than he could process. Anger at himself for breaking her and betraying their relationship; anger at her for walking away before he had a chance to explain how sorry he was, before he could even try and repair the damage he caused; anger at Diana and Them for showing up and fucking with everything; he was even angry at the X Files and FBI for taking up so much of his time, time he should have spent worshiping the fucking ground this woman walked on.

Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted as she tried to bring her nerves under control; he'd never been psychical with her when he was angry and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. Her heart was pounding in fear and adrenalin and she didn't feel any pain at all when he shoved her back against the door. "Mulder..."

He crushed his mouth down onto hers and his tongue lashed past her lips and dueled mercilessly with her own. If she loved him before, surely she could love him again. He could make her love him, and even if she couldn't, if she would just agree to stand near him and give him a smile occasionally, then he could be happy the rest of his life. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her into his body. He moaned as her soft curves molded to his hard frame and tightened his embrace even more.

She was somewhat passive under his touch but there was a couple of times when he swore he felt her tongue swirl gently around his as he plundered her mouth. He broke away from her mouth and let her breath but he wasn't interested in air for himself. "With every fiber of my being, _I love you_, Dana Scully." He kissed her cheek hard to try and make her understand the depth of his feelings. "Even if you can't love me again, love me tonight."

He watched her eyes flutter open and she looked deeply into his warm brown eyes. They still gave her such comfort and tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes again. Why did this man have to mean so much to her?

"Hey, none of that." He whispered as he ran his thumb along the bottoms of her eyes to dry the tears before they could even fall. "Forget about everything. Nothing exists but you, me, and this room. Let me love you." He bent his head and gently kissed each of her eyes before resting his forehead on her forehead and studying her face while she contemplated if one night was still more than she wanted to give him.

She closed her eyes tightly, causing wrinkles to form on her face as her mind and heart battled against each other. In her months here, she was doing okay, not great but she had been coping and healing. She was surviving and she knew she could be happy again one day without Mulder. With enough time, people could adjust to anything.

She didn't want that darkness in her life anymore—it changed her too much. But one night wouldn't change a lot in the grand scheme of things. After waiting so long for him, didn't she deserve at least one night? She opened her eyes and hesitantly raised her hand upwards to rest it on the side of his face. This time when he lowered his mouth down to hers, she met him in the middle. The kiss was soft and slow, comforting and—_he hoped_—healing. Non-intrusive and yet she still made his knees weak as she began sucking on his lower lip.

She rocked up onto her tiptoes and angled her head to the side, letting just the tip of her tongue trace along his upper lip; when she was satisfied with her exploration of his lips, she coaxed his mouth open and furthered her exploration. He helped and aided her when she needed it but he let her have control and tried his best not to just start groping her like a teenager. She felt so good against him and each time her tongue touched his, a spark ignited in his belly and thickened his cock. He breathed her in and opened his eyes so he could watch her kiss him; at any other time, he would have said that kissing with his eyes open was completely off the table, but he never thought he'd see this woman again and he could hardly believe that she was was here, pressed against him, kissing him, loving him.

He worried that her feet may be getting tired since she was staying up on her tiptoes so he dropped his hand down from her neck and swung it beneath her ass to pick her up, letting her wrap her legs around him and settle her weight on his hips. He felt her other hand slowly rake through his hair and his eyes rolled closed. God, he had forgotten how amazing her nails felt on his scalp. He moaned softly as her fingertips ran the length of his head again and he turned around, hitting her hip on the entry table and knocking its contents and the room key onto the floor. He readjusted her weight and walked them into the room and towards the bed.

He stumbled again when his toe caught the chair he had put by the bed but he quickly stepped around it and laid her down in the middle of the mattress; she kept her arms around his neck so he positioned himself over her and they resumed kissing, more deeply and intimately now.

This was better than anything he'd ever imaged—and he dreamed of her all the time, especially after she left. She tasted exactly like he thought she would, like a vanilla latte and slightly fruity, probably a new salad dressing she'd eaten for lunch. He was so relieved that, after changing as much as she had since she left DC, she still smelled exactly like she always did; there was however a cleaner undertone mixed in with her scent and from the long hours she spent at the hospital.

He reached blindly for her hand and when he found it, he slid his fingers between her fingers and marveled at the size difference. Her hands were so small and elegant. He wondered how many lives they had saved, how many wounds they had healed. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it reverently. How could he have ever picked another woman over her? How could he have ignored the pull of her heart for so many years? She deserved a man so much better than he was. He could be perfect for her tonight though, he could give that to her.

He slowly reinserted control over the kiss and she didn't seem to mind letting him take the lead. He pulled at her jacket until she raised her upper body off the bed so he could pull it off her, followed by her shirt and bra. Before the bra even had time to land on the floor, his hands molded themselves to her breasts; they were slightly bigger than he had always imagined they'd be, just the right size for his large hands. And like everything else, they were achingly perfect.

"Scully, you feel so good," he whispered into her mouth as he began stroking and pinching her nipples. She moaned and he grew even harder from the sound. Her hands began tugging at his jacket, trying to pull it off him while also not wanting to put enough space between them for the fabric to slide off. Her legs were moving restlessly beneath him, wrapping around his leg and pulling him closer and then edging between his legs so she could run her knee against his erection.

She finally got his jacket, tie, and shirt off and sank her nails into his back, bringing his body so close to hers that he could no longer keep his hands on her breasts. He kissed down her neck and bit playfully at her earlobe; he wished this joining could be more carefree, it would be fun to whisper hilariously bad pickup lines in her ear and feel her stomach vibrate with laughter. He wished like hell he could roll back the clock so they could just be Mulder and Scully forever.

He moved his hands down and pulled her legs loose from his waist and unbuttoned her pants and lowered them down one leg and then the other along with her underwear. He slowly looked from her face, down her arched neck, her heavy breasts which moved whenever she breathed, her slim stomach and adorable belly button and then a trimmed V of red hair. He lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth and slid a hand downwards until her was cupping her between the legs. She was so warm and alive, wet and smooth.

He applied pressure to just his index finger and parted her folds, letting her thick arousal spread along his fingertip. Oh God, she was fucking hot and smelled so good. His nostrils flared with her scent and he gently began circling his finger around her clit, increasing his suction on her nipple until it neared pain.

Her back arched off the bed and her fingers returned to his hair; "Mmmmulder," she moaned when he finally let go of one breast only to move to the other. Her hips were rocking against his finger, increasing the tempo and the pressure.

"You can call me Fox," he said, and his low, calm voice completely shattered the mood; she went still beneath his touch. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him as though he was a complete stranger. "I've wanted you to for a few years now, I just didn't know how to bring it up," he explained. She continued staring blankly at him, her mind struggling to process the offer with so much skin-to-skin contact. "Say something."

"I can't...can't do this." She closed her eyes and shook her head. If he had stayed _Mulder_, she could have convinced herself that this happened before Diana, before their relationship crashed. In the years to come, when she looked back on this night, she could have very easily altered her memory's timeline by a few months; the setting would have changed as well, to his apartment; and instead of whispering '_I'm sorry_,' she would have pretended that he was whispering how much he loved and trusted her.

But now she wouldn't be able to pretend they were okay. If he was _Fox_, that meant that this was real. They were in Indianapolis, in a rundown motel, and her heart was still broken. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him off but he didn't move.

"No no no no, you can do this!" He pleaded. "You don't have to call me Fox, you don't have to call me anything. I can even turn the lights off." He struggled to swallow and she could see that it was crushing him to offer her these things. "I can be anyone you want... a stranger or..." his eyes slammed shut and a bone-deep shudder ran through his body and threatened to make him throw up, "...or Ed Jerse, if that's what you wanted."

"Oh Mulder," she said, her voice full of emotion as she ran her fingers down his cheek, "I never wanted anyone but you. Not Ed and definitely not a stranger." She could have seen herself having sex with someone else and pretending it was Mulder, but never would she have slept with Mulder and pretended it wasn't him. The idea was preposterous even now.

He didn't know what to say but he knew he couldn't let her leave. This was his last chance; it was _her_ last chance. "Your favorite fantasy, then. I can give you that." She squinted her eyes and he knew what she was going to say so he beat her to it. "You don't have to tell me what it is, just imagine the fantasy and tell me what to do. I don't have to know."

He must have gotten lucky because her face turned inquisitive as she seriously considered his offer. It was a good fantasy, she'd revised and replayed it for years. It was much too private to share with him now, but if he didn't know...

He reached over to the nightstand and pulled open the top drawer. "I uh... well I have a fantasy of my own I'd be playing out in my head." He said, thinking that it might make it easier for her to agree to this knowing his own imagination would be preoccupied. He brought out a velvet ring box and flipped it open. It was a bold move on his part, but he wanted to know the depth of love he had for her; he'd made plans for their future even though he'd never told her about them.

It wasn't a new ring, the silver had been dulled with scratches and years of constant wear, but the diamond was shining brightly and must have just been added to the setting recently. "It was my grandm... well, it doesn't matter. Would you wear it? It's part of my fantasy." There were no emotions behind his words other than sorrow and regret.

It was the only part of the fantasy he cared about. Sometimes they would be in the backseat of a car because they couldn't keep their hands off each other long enough to make it home, other times he would carry her up to his or her apartment and they'd spend hours learning each others bodies; sometimes they were on a plane headed to their honeymoon and they'd sneak off to the bathroom together. The only thing that mattered in his favorite fantasy was the ring—it was _always_ shining brightly on her finger.

Her mouth gaped open and her brow arched higher than he'd ever seen it before. She was staring at the ring but her mind was a million miles away. "Mulder, I don't think I should wear..."

"It doesn't have to mean anything to you—it's just... a prop." He slowly reached for her left hand and when she didn't fight him, he lifted it off his chest and slipped the ring onto her finger. But instead of feeling any type of satisfaction or pleasure, seeing the ring on her finger now made him sick and he grew flaccid. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shake the sickness from his mind. She would never be his—she didn't want his ring, she didn't even want him.

She saw the tears etch down his face and her own eyes watered in response; it would be so easy to forgive him and take him in her arms. She wanted more than anything to comfort him and be comforted in return. But while it felt easy tonight, it wouldn't be easy for her to justify her actions tomorrow, or the next day. "I can take it off," she offered sadly, not sure what he wanted her to do.

He shook his head but kept his eyes closed. "It's yours... it's been yours for years now. I know you don't want to hear that and I know you don't want it, but it's true." He slid off her and stretched out beside her on his side, their legs getting tangled in the process; his hand was pressed flat against her stomach and while his stare was fixated on her breasts, there was no desire in his eyes—just sorrow and self-hatred.

She hated that he was suffering because she knew it was worse than her own pain; on top of losing the person you loved most, he also had to deal with the fact that it was his fault. She wished like hell she could tell him that it wasn't his fault, that everything was going to be okay, and they'd always be together but it just wasn't true anymore. But she could give him a beautiful goodbye, she could give him that.

She took in a deep breath and placed her left hand over his hand on her stomach and gently ran her fingertips across his skin. "I'll always love what we were, Mulder. You know, before that day. You are a large part of my story and I would never erase you."

She pushed gently on his shoulder until he was lying flat on his back and she draped herself on top of him. Even though she couldn't comfort him with words, she could try and comfort him through their own, non-verbal language. Comfort was part of her fantasy anyways.

She rested her forehead on his for a moment, waiting until he opened his eyes and met her gaze. There was such love and devotion there that he had to shut his eyes again from the pain her beautiful emotions caused him. She kissed his cheek, the side of his nose and then focused on his mouth until he was more relaxed under her touch. Her attention was so singularly focused on her kiss, she didn't realize his hands had come up to rest motionless on her hips and that her own fingers were gripped tightly in his hair.

His body felt so hot against her bare skin, and she could feel his heart pumping wildly in his chest. He was alive, this was real. This was Mulder, this was the man she had loved for years, the man who had literally gone to the end of the earth to save her life; she had shared more with him than she would ever share with another person again. He was her greatest strength and her greatest weakness. He always would be.

She kissed down his neck and nibbled gently on his earlobe like she had imagined doing so many times through the years; when she had the tempting flesh between her teeth, she couldn't help but smile at the desire began flowing through her veins again. She whispered into his ear, "do you still want me, Mulder?"

How could she ask that? Of course he wanted her. He would want her until the day he died, probably after that as well. "I will always want you, Dana," he promised. His hands went to her back and his right hand dipped down to cover the small of her back and added pressure that pushed her hips down harder against his.

As soon as she felt his hand on the small of her back, her eyes rolled closed and a rush of warmth ran through her body and soaked her folds. He flexed his hips upwards and pressed himself against her, soaking the crotch of his pants with her arousal. She hummed happily and dropped her head lower to kiss down his chest.

She had felt him start losing his erection earlier so she slowly crawled backwards until she was between his legs and she gently ran her nails down his stomach until her fingers met his belt buckle. She toyed with the buckle for a few seconds, sneaking a quick glance up at him to watch his eyes grow heavy with desire.

With efficiency that frankly surprised and delighted him, she unfastened the belt and lowered his zipper. She ran a single fingernail down the length of his cock, still trapped underneath a layer of fabric, and he moaned loudly and bucked his hips upward to increase the pressure. She chuckled low in her throat and he moaned again, making her laugh harder. "So impatient," she smiled. She pressed a dozen kisses to his lower abdomen while her hands lowered his pants and boxers from his legs.

When his cock sprang free from his boxers, she cupped his balls with one hand and added just enough pressure so that his cock laid flat on his stomach; she nuzzled her nose against the head and shook her hair out from behind her ears so that it fell gently against his aching flesh. He squeezed his eyes shut and his head hit the pillow as yet another moan was ripped from his throat. He was rock hard already but he didn't want her to hurry, he wanted tonight to last for the next hundred years.

She pursed her lips and kissed just the tip of his cock, smiling smugly when it twitched from her brief touch. He was long and growing thicker with every passing second. He was panting wildly and couldn't keep his legs still as she planted kissing all down his length. "Fuuuck, Scully," he groaned through clenched teeth. When she reached the base of his cock, her tongue peeked out from her mouth and she licked a hot stripe all the way to his tip and then took him in her mouth. She used her teeth to catch softly against his flared head before swirling her tongue around the flesh and moving him deeper into her mouth.

She hummed deep in her throat as he filled her mouth. His taste and smell immediately overwhelmed her senses and she had to close to eyes so she could fully appreciate the experience. How many times had she dreamed of this? How many years had she spent wishing like crazy to get to this stage in their relationship—to move from being friends to lovers? And now they'd waited too long, but she could have it tonight. She pushed her head down and took as much as she could into her mouth before her eyes started watering.

He grunted and his thighs began shaking uncontrollably as he fought the urge to push deeper into her mouth. It had been such a long time since he'd felt a woman's mouth around him but he couldn't remember it ever feeling this good before. For six years, he'd had a front row view to her habit of licking her lips and his imagination had ran wild about making her lick more than just her lips. "Look at me," he panted desperately, wanting to see her crystal blue eyes.

It took her a few seconds to comply, she was too focused on her own thoughts that his words took longer to soak into her consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and she had to make an effort to keep them from closing again. When her gaze met with his, she felt him swell and jerk in her mouth. He grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her up until she was on top of him again. His thumb ran along her swollen bottom lip and then kissed her, their tongues dancing erotically together.

Her fingers burrowed into his hair and pulled his head backwards hard enough for their lips to part. He frowned and immediately chased after her mouth with his. "God, you're so sexy," he finally groaned when he couldn't catch her in another kiss.

She nibbled thoughtfully on her bottom lip while she debated what her responses tonight should be. Should she stay silent and keep her reactions internal so she didn't give him a false sense of hope that this could continue past tonight? Or should she open herself completely and share everything with him like she had dreamed of doing for so long? She tightened her hold on his hair and then got close enough to take his bottom lip between her teeth and suck hard. When she let it go, her eyes narrowed on the swollen lip and her gaze turned dark. "Mmm, you taste good."

His eyes drooped closed and he ran his hands down her back possessively. "Yeah? You liked that?"

"I loved it," she growled. Her hand snaked back down to his cock and wrapped around its warmth. His hips bucked upwards further into her cupped hand and his hands clawed at her ass. He rolled them over and then pulled her until she was in the middle of the bed. The second her head hit the pillow, she grabbed at her hair and pulled it all to one side and then bent her knees and spread her legs. Oh God, this was _really _happening.

He settled his hips between her legs and kissed her while his hands found their way back to her breasts, tweaking and circling her nipples until she whimpered at their hardness. "Feels like you love this too," he said and the smile on his lips broke up their kiss. She moaned and scooted herself higher up on the bed so that, instead of his mouth being level with her lips, they were now level with her nipples. She arched her brow at him and waited for him to get back to work.

The smile he gave her did such wicked things to her heart and she nearly wept when he latched onto her breast and began sucking and nursing the over-sensitized flesh. Every stroke of his tongue sent an electric jolt traveling through her body and ended in her clit—there was an insanely good chance he was going to make her cum just by playing with her breasts.

Her hips were thrashing wildly against him and he had to lower all his weight down on top of her to settle her movements. "Save your strength, honey. You're going to need it." He bit down a bit too hard on her nipple and she hissed in a deep breath through her clenched teeth. She grabbed his face and pulled him up, kissing him hard and thrusting her tongue into his mouth brutally until her nipple stopped aching.

With great effort, she shoved him sideways and they rolled until she was on top again. He frowned but let her have control again; after all, this was for her more than it was supposed to be for him. Her body sensually wiggled down slightly and she positioned his cock to lay on his stomach again and then sat on it, letting her arousal soak his hot skin and they both moaned from the intensity of it. She rocked her hips forwards and back and within seconds they were drenched and half-mad with desire.

His hands smoothed up and down her back, his fingers rippled down her spine and then rose back up to dip between her shoulders blades; "God, Scully...I love your body...almost as much as I love your mind." He used his hold on her shoulder blades to pull her upper body lower so that he could kiss her, moving his hips in tandem with hers. When the kiss broke, he sucked in a deep breath, "but they've got nothing on how much I love your soul." He gave her one last quick kiss and then started shifting his body down the bed, between her parted legs, letting her slick pussy slide up his chest as he moved further and further down the mattress until his face was between her thighs. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and tugged her body downwards until she was nearly sitting on his face.

"Mulder... no," she said, panicking at the awkwardness of the position. It was entirely too intimate of a position. He ignored her protest and stuck his tongue out to lick a hot stripe along her folds, adding more pressure when he reached her clit. He sucked the sensitive nerve and then moved back down so he could slide his tongue into her tight body. She couldn't help but moan and instead of trying to get out of the position, she found herself grinding against his tongue; she arched her back and leaned forward so she could rest her upper body weight on the headboard. "Yesss, God Mulder, that feels sooooo good." He brought one hand forward and fingered her pussy for a few seconds before trailing it backwards and pressing it gently against her sphincter. She sucked in a deep breath and nearly came just from the surprise pleasure of that brief forbidden touch.

"You like that, baby?" He asked, his lips tickled her clit as he mouthed the words. It was harder to read her now that he couldn't see her face anymore and he didn't want to scare her away.

She hummed and started moving her hips faster, "...more...more..." she begged shamelessly, her head falling back limp on her neck as she stared up at the ceiling. He moaned loudly in response, completely turned on by every little move she made. He pressed his finger against her again and applied more and more pressure until he slid past the tight muscle; he stopped immediately upon entry, not wanting to push her any further than she was comfortable going. The movement of her hips loss their finesse and all she cared about was the orgasm that was building up within her. The rest of the world truly did fade away until it was only Mulder and her in the motel room.

If he died right now, he would have had the best life he could have ever possibly lived. Not only had he been able to spend the last 6 years of his life with the woman he loved, but he'd also felt her in the throes of passion, he'd tasted her love for him, and smelled the effect he had on her; physically and emotionally, he'd gotten closer to her than he had any other woman in his entire life. He closed his eyes and swallowed every detail of this scene, every emotion racing through him, so he could relive this over and over and over again. He hummed and sucked hard at her clit, nipping it softly with his teeth. Her thighs went rigid and her entire body froze as all her inner muscles began vibrating; about halfway through the orgasm, she was able to force herself to breath again and she moaned loudly. Her hips twitched as she finished riding out the final waves of her orgasm, most of her weight collapsing forward onto the headboard.

He pulled his head out from between her legs and got up onto his knees, directly behind her and rubbed her back while she gathered her strength again. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her backwards until her back was pressed against his chest and she was resting her weight on his thighs. Pushing the hair away from her neck, he kissed every inch of skin his lips could reach. "What happens in your fantasy? Tell me what to do."

Her muscles were still spasming every few seconds but the tremors were quickly fading. She licked her lips and sighed contentedly. "You come up behind me, a lot like this." She said, forcing her hand to come up and gently stroke the arm he had banded around her waist.

"Oh yeah? Are we lovers?" He asked lifting his hands to cup and squeeze her breasts with familiarity of a lifelong lover. "Or is this our first time?" His voice was soft and his hands moved from her breasts to her shoulder, hesitant now like he wasn't sure if he was crossing a line.

Her breathing was ragged and labored and she struggled to answer his questions. "Fr...First time..." she said, not recognizing the huskiness in her own voice. "But it...it doesn't feel like it."

"That's because we've wanted and loved each other for _so_ long." He breathed into her ear and smiled when she shivered from the heat, "where are we? In our office?" Her eyes fluttered closed as his low, gravely voice washed over her. She nodded her head, completely incapable of speech at this point. He hummed in approval and kissed her ear, "close your eyes." She did as he said and his cock grew impossibly harder at how trusting and open she looked. Please let this night change her mind.

He picked her hands up and placed them on the headboard and then let his own hands fall to his sides. "You're at the filing cabinet, you didn't hear me come in. I walk up behind you and just stand there looking at you. You're always so beautiful, so much it makes my heart ache."

"Mulder..." She whispered pleadingly.

He swallowed hard and fought the desire to close his eyes, he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. Both of his arms wrapped around her quickly and pulled her tightly against him. "Scully," he panted and began biting uncontrollably at her earlobe while she undulated her hips against his erection. "I want you, Scully. More than I've ever wanted a woman before. I'll never want anyone else."

"Yesss," she hissed and lifted her arms upwards so she could run her fingers through his hair while he continued nibbling her neck and ear. She raised her weight off of him and got onto her knees, looking back at him with that beautiful brow arched. He grunted and grabbed his cock in his hand, stroking it as he lined himself up behind her. He pressed forward and nearly came the moment the head of his cock sank into her body. Holy fuck, she was so tight that he had to keep constant pressure or her body would have just pushed him back out. He moaned and panted her name, running his hands all over her back, his fingers swirling around her tattoo. "Please...more, please..." she panted and rocked backwards against him, taking nearly his full length inside her before moaning and rocking forward.

When she rocked backwards again, Mulder timed his first thrust perfectly and their hips crashed against each other and he buried himself inside her completely. She froze and moved a hand down to her stomach, pressing her hand against her belly as if she could feel him inside her. "You feel so good," she whispered, almost in awe, as if she didn't fully understand why he felt this perfect.

He couldn't help but bark out a loud laugh and lean down to kiss her back. "No, _you_ feel fucking amazing." He licked all the way up her spine and then bit gently at her shoulder blade. He wanted to consume her, to mesh her body into his so they'd never be further apart than they were right now. "I love you—always remember that." He whispered before he pulled out and thrust back in. She grunted from the impact and moved her hips in time with his to increase the tempo until she was crashing hard into the headboard. She looked over her shoulder at him and saw the sweat dripping down his hair line, his bottom lip trapped mercilessly between his teeth, and he was focused solely on her ass; he squeezed her ass hard and then spanked her softly, his eyes flicking up to her face to gauge her reaction.

She sucked in a deep breath and grunted, pushing back harder on his next thrust. He said something but she didn't hear his words over the screeching box-spring and mattress. It sounded as though they were tearing the room apart and it made her damn glad she wasn't on the other side of the wall having to listen to someone else have sex. It's much better being the participant. How many nights had she and Mulder spent in hotel rooms surrounded by people in love...or people that just wanted a good, hard fuck? Well after 6 long years, she finally knew what it felt like.

He spanked her again, a bit harder this time and then wound his arm around her waist and slid his finger against her clit. She jerked under his touch, "Ohmygod, don't stop," she sobbed and her eyes rolling closed.

"Never..never gonna stop..." he grunted, his cock began swelling and he felt his balls draw up tight. He reached up and grabbed both of her breasts and used them as leverage to pull her into him, increasing the force of his thrusts and reaching deeper than before. He felt a shudder run through her body just before she sucked in a deep breath and her hips began moving wildly against him while she moaned breathy encouragements. He half-groaned,half-screamed and rammed into her brutally hard until her body clamped down on his cock and milked his swollen flesh. With a loud groan, his next thrust was so hard that her weak arms could no longer hold up her body weight and they fell flat on the bed with him on top of her. She felt his cock begin twitching as he came inside her, pumping more and more of himself into her until she thought she'd pass out.

He went still and settled more of his weight on top of her, kissing lazily at her neck. They were quiet for a long time, both unwilling to move and disturb this moment. "I love you more than anything, I want you to remember that after you leave."

"I know you do, Mulder. I'll remember." How could she ever forget? He flexed his hips and pushed his cock deep into her again. He was still rock hard and she turned to look at him over her shoulder, that eyebrow arched in both disbelief and approval.

"You're not too sore, are you?" he asked before pressing more soft kisses on her neck. She shook her head and tried to wiggle underneath his weight so that he wouldn't have to do all the work but he sat up and his cock slid out out of her. She frowned at the loss of his heat but he flipped her over and then laid back down on top her again. "Is this okay?" He asked, staring down intimately at her. She knew this was the absolute worst position if she hoped to try and stay emotionally uninvolved. How could she not fall in love with him all over again with him staring down at her, telling her how much he loved her, while he made love to her? She closed her eyes but nodded her head; he had given her her fantasy so it was only fair that he should play his out as well.

He gently laid his forehead against hers, staring intently at her face and wishing she'd open her eyes so they could truly connect with other another—he loved her so much that his heart physically hurt every time it beat. He brought his hips forward and his cock returned to her warm, tight body. They both moaned and he picked up a slow, sensual rhythm that allowed him to drop his head and kiss her deeply. She hooked one of her legs around his leg and tilted her hips upwards so that his cock was angled differently as he entered her. She scratched her nails lightly over his back, pulling him closer to her and deepening their thrusts.

She wanted to tell him she loved him, she wanted him to know that she loved him more than she'd ever love anyone again. She wanted to admit that he owned more of her heart than she did. But she couldn't tell him any of that because he'd never let her walk away. But maybe she didn't have to tell him, maybe she could show him.

When he landed his next thrust, she put her hands on his face and opened her eyes. Their gazes met and she let all her barriers fall away so that he could see the depth of her love. His brows furrowed slightly as he looked at her, trying to figure out if she truly meant the emotions shining from her eyes. She leaned up and kissed him, giving him a lifetime worth of passionate kisses to make up for being without him after tonight.

He struggled to keep his thrusts fluid and steady while focusing on her kisses. When she broke away to breathe for a few seconds, he dropped his head down next to her ear and quickened his strokes. "I love you too, Dana," he whispered. He snapped his hips forward and buried himself completely and then grinded against her, stimulating her clit. His words and the stimulation pushed her orgasm to the front of her mind. She screamed his name and pulled him into another kiss, moaning and humming into his mouth as he came inside her again.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her as tightly as he could. He wanted so much to ask her not to leave, to stay with him forever but he couldn't bear to hear her say no. "Don't leave yet, you can sleep here tonight." She didn't say anything but she also didn't move either so he took that as acceptance. "I'll get a towel and clean you up, can I get you anything else?"

She shook her head and he bent down to kiss the top of her head before rolling out of bed and going into the bathroom to wet a washcloth and grab a clean towel. He turned out all the lights and blindly felt his way back to the bed. She tried to take the washcloth from him but he swatted her hand away and began rubbing the washcloth first on her abdomen, then her inner thighs, and then finally between her legs. He tossed the washcloth away and then dried her before throwing the towel away too.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" She asked with a smile on her face as she looked up at him.

"As amusing as it would be for you to be the big spoon, I'll do it _this _time."

"Mulder," she said warningly.

"Sshhh, scoot close to me and go to sleep." He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her into the curve of his body. After a few minutes of fighting sleep, he sighed and kissed the back of her head. "Thank you...for tonight." She didn't know what to say so she said nothing.

.

She waited until she heard his breathing deepen with an occasional snore before she eased herself out of bed and redressed. She couldn't turn on the overhead lights so she used what light was streaming in from outside to smooth the wrinkles from her clothes and fix her hair. She ran a single finger under her lip and cleaned away the smeared lipstick stains.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned to look at Mulder and then closed her eyes, burning the image of him into her mind to last her for the rest of her life; this image was a much better keepsake than the memory of him betraying her. She walked over and straightened up her side of the bed, retucking the sheets under the mattress, fluffing the pillow to erase the indention she'd left behind, and then pulling the comforter up until it looked like she'd never been in the bed at all.

Next, she picked up his discarded clothes off the floor and folded them, putting them into his suitcase with all his other clothes. On her way out the door, she bent down to grab the washcloth and towel he had brought her to clean up with and would toss them into the first housekeeping dirty hamper she could find. Right before the door shut, she turned back one last time to memorize the sleepy smile plastered on his face.

This was why she had never wanted to see him again. It would have been so much easier going through life hating him. How could she live life loving him again with no chance of seeing him again? But he needed this clean break, he needed her to erase herself from this hotel room. This was his only chance for a new life, a life without her. She would never forget, but maybe he could; now that he'd found her, seen her, and said what he needed to say, maybe he could find closure. Maybe.

She pivoted her foot and felt something under her shoe. She looked down to see the hotel room key laying where he'd dropped it earlier. She picked it up and it seemed oddly heavy, she looked at the room tag attached the key and ran her finger against the raised text. _Room 4. Motorway Motel_. She unclipped the room tag from the key and slid it into her pocket as a demented souvenir and then slid the key onto the entry table. "Goodbye, Mulder." She said quietly before letting the door lock closed behind her; she twisted the doorknob to check the lock and a tear ran down her cheek, she couldn't go back now even if she wanted to.

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Easing silently through the front door, she was relieved to see that Maggie hadn't waited up on her and all the lights were out. She shrugged out of her coat, and dropped her keys on the side table before heading to her bedroom and undressing. She didn't bother putting on her pajamas, she just crawled into bed, wrapped the blanket tightly around her, and cried.

_He didn't choose you, he never will,_ her head screamed but after months of staying silent, her heart finally had a reply: _no, but he found you._


	4. Chapter 4

**Forging A New Path**

I don't own The X Files or its characters. The X Files is the property of Chris Carter, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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**Chapter 4 by AnarchyX-Phile**

Mulder woke up when a car horn went off in the motel parking lot followed by angry yelling. He scratched sleepily at his stomach while he worked his eyes open. A smile was already lifting his lips in anticipation of seeing Scully fast asleep; she was always so adorable when she slept.

But the smile quickly faded when he saw the empty bed next to him. He ran his hands over the bedspread in a panic as he tried to understand why that side of the bed was still made up. He sat up and looked around the room for any sign of her but he found nothing, even his own clothes were missing. He jumped up and ran to the bathroom but it too was empty.

He hit the heel of his palm against his head repeatedly as he tried to make sense of the room. Scully had been here. There was no way in hell he could have dreamed or imagined her that vividly. He went back to the bathroom and checked himself out in the mirror for any scratches or bruises that would prove he'd had sex last night but he could see nothing.

"She was here. She was right HERE!" He yelled as he paced the room. He went to his suitcase and found his clothes from yesterday folded neatly in a pile. He began analyzing the fold lines and patterns and knew without a doubt that she had been the one to put these clothes away—she always folded pants in a 3-fold pattern when she packed while he would only use a 2 fold pattern.

He needed more proof. He looked around the room for anything else she may have inadvertently left as a clue when he remembered the ring. He flew to the nightstand and ripped open the top drawer, scrambling wildly for the small jewelry box and flipping it open.

It was empty.

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Scully woke up to the sound of pots and pans banging together in the kitchen. She opened her eyes and when she realized she was naked, all the memories from last night washed over her. She buried her face in the pillow and fought back yet another round of tears.

How could she have been so stupid? Did she really think Mulder was just going to go home? He must already know where she worked—that's how he had found her yesterday. All he'd have to do now is flash his badge at the hospital and they'd be more than willing to hand over her address. Three months wasted—she'd have to start completely over if she still wanted to free from Mulder.

But did she still want a life without Mulder? Had she even been living without him for the last three months? He always there with her, a presence in her mind that hadn't faded with distance or time; he was an ache in her bones that became a constant reminder that she was missing a piece of herself. She closed her eyes and thought back to that day at the Lone Gunmen's when he left her, but the memory broke up and faded and images from last night flooded the scene instead; his beautiful brown eyes looking down at her while he made love to her, _I love you too, Dana_. Without words, he had looked into her heart and saw the love she had for him. Could she walk away from that?

There was loud crash as a pan fell onto the floor of the kitchen. "Mom!" She yelled, pressing her hands over her ears so she wouldn't have to hear all the noise; on top of everything else, her brain couldn't handle the extra stress. The apartment grew silent and she could hear Maggie pace in the living room for a moment before she came and knocked on her bedroom door. "It's unlocked."

Maggie breezed into the room, looking all around the room before focusing on her daughter; Scully wrapped the blanket tighter around her and tucked her hair behind her ear. Maggie's eyes grew huge and her entire body froze; Scully's brows furrowed for a second before she realized what her mother was looking at. The ring.

"It's not what you think."

Maggie's mouth gaped open but no words came out; she shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the end of the bed. "I don't know what to think anymore." She admitted after a few moments of silence.

"Mulder found me."

"_Fox_ gave you that?" She asked in confusion.

"Mom... he... I wore it for him, but it doesn't..." She was going to say that it didn't mean anything but it did and she wasn't going to waste time lying. "He said he loved me."

"Oh honey, he's loved you for years. I knew that the moment you went missing." Scully took in a deep breath and nodded her head decisively. She stood up and winced slightly at her aching muscles. "Where are you going?" Maggie asked, dropping her eyes down to the bed to give her some privacy while she scrambled around the room and got dressed.

"Back to his motel." She said, nearly falling as she struggled into a pair of jeans. "Mom, I've been waiting for him to look at me like a woman for the last six years. And last night... no man has ever loved me like that before." She looked up and rolled her eyes at Maggie's blushing face. "Not like that," she laughed. "I mean, when he looked at me and said I was the most important thing in his life—nobody has ever looked at me like that. I can't run from that, and I don't want to anymore."

While she finished dressing and quickly applied some makeup, Maggie reached under the mattress and pulled the sketchbook from its hiding place and laid it out on top of the bedding. "I've watched you struggle for three months, Dana. No matter how determined your mind was to get away from him, your heart never left DC." Scully turned away from her reflection and looked back at her mom, her gaze quickly landing on the sketchbook. "I raised four fiercely independent children, _William Scully_'s children—surely you didn't think you could hide this from me. You never could pick a good hiding place. Do you still love him? Is all your hate gone?"

"Yes." She said without a moment's hesitation.

"Do you love him _enough_?"

"Enough?"

"Enough to live with his ghosts. He's a haunted man and that's not ever going to change—it's who he is. Can you live with that?"

"Can I live without it? I'm not so sure anymore. No matter how hard I tried, how _we_ tried, he was always on my mind. If I'm not with him, I'll always be filling up sketchbooks with his face." She could either choose to live with his ghosts with him, or live with his ghost without him.

"You're stronger now—and it sounds like he's smarter," Maggie said with a soft smile. "Things can be different this time."

"I hope so, because I love him more now than I ever did before."

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Mulder dressed as quickly as he could, opting for a suit so that the hospital staff would take him more seriously when he went in to demand Scully's address. The clothes slowed him down a bit but he knew it would save him time in the long run—and timing was key because Scully could very well be packing up to leave the city right now.

He put some cologne on, ran a comb through his hair, brushed his teeth and was on his way out the door when he cellphone started ringing. He paused with his hand on the room door debating if he should waste time answering it. Fuck it, nothing was more important than getting to Scully.

He jerked open the room door and stepped outside, his pace already fast as his mind raced with all the things he had to do before Scully would be in his arms again. He was in such a hurry to leave, he didn't see the woman standing in front of his door with her hand held up, preparing to knock on his door; he walked straight into her and his momentum knocked her off her feet.

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The air was knocked out of her lungs and she was shoved backwards, her head coming dangerously close to hitting the brick pillar behind her. She tried to curl her body sideways so that she'd miss the pillar and just hit the ground instead but she was falling too quickly. She stretched her arms out in hopes of catching herself when she hit the ground but she felt something tight around her wrist and instead of falling backwards, she was pulled roughly forward and crashed into Mulder's body instead.

"Scully? Are you okay?" He asked, wrapping one arm around her waist while his other hand cupped her face and then burrowed into her hair. "I thought I'd lost you," he said, pressing his mouth against her neck.

She was slow to respond as her mind processed the fall and then the swift rescue but when she felt his lips against her neck, her body melted against him and her arms wound around him and pulled him even tighter to her. "I love you, Fox. I love you." The words rushed from her mouth without any conscious thought but she meant them with all her heart.

"I was so scared when you weren't here," he admitted as he pulled her into the room and closed the door. He pushed her backwards against the door and then crushed his body against hers, completely eliminating all the space between them. "I thought I lost you!" He repeated desperately as his nails dug into her hips and his teeth latched onto her neck. "First in DC and then this morning. I can't lose you again. I can't."

"You won't, I promise. I love you. God, I love you." She managed to get her hands on his chest and she shoved him backwards with all her strength. His face turned white and he began to panic, shaking his head and reaching for her. "It's okay, I'm not going anywhere." She said before she grabbed the bottom hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, she then reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall from her arms and land on the floor. She unfastened her pants and pushed them down her legs along with her underwear, stepping out of them as she walked towards him.

He opened his arms and was utterly amazed when she walked into his embrace. "This... this isn't just about sex is it?" He asked, needing to know that she was truly devoted to this relationship. He'd never been more serious about anything in his life.

"Never, Fox. I would never do that to you." She raised her left hand up and showed him the ring that was still on her finger. "I realize that it was just part of the fantasy, but this meant something to me last night—I need to know if you really want me to wear it."

"More than anything, it's all I've dreamed about since you left DC. I should have had the nerve to tell you years ago how I felt. God, I am so sorry for everything. I don't want you to ever take that ring off."

One side of her mouth lifted into a grin and she looked down at his tie, picking up the fabric and running it through her fingers. "I didn't plan on it." She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted while she waited on him to kiss her.

He licked his lips as he looked down at her, so vulnerable and trusting that it made his heart ache. He bent his head and kissed her softly while his hands roamed her back, the warmth of her skin branding him. Her arms looped around his body and he felt her hands on his ass, squeezing it and pulling him closer to her before she stepped away and went to the bed. "No fantasies this time. Just me and you. Nothing else."

He pulled his tie free from his neck and shrugged out of his jacket. She watched him intently, not having to worry about committing every detail to memory; she would see this man undress for the rest of her life, she could take the time and enjoy it now.

The clink of his belt as he unbuckled it nearly deafened her in the silent room. She wanted to say something but her mouth was dry; she licked her lips and her eyes flicked up to his face and she whimpered. His gaze was dark and focused solely on her lips now. She didn't see him finish undressing but he must have because a few seconds later, he was on top of her and all she could feel was his glorious skin against hers.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply, his tongue moving slowly over hers while his hands mapped her body, sliding along every curve and claiming every inch as his own. "I'm quitting the X Files." He whispered into her mouth before he began planting playful kisses down the bridge of her nose.

"Fox, you don't have to do that."

"I devoted myself to the X Files because I had nothing else in my life. But I have something now that's much more worthy of my devotion. The dark... it changes us too much. I can make you happy, I want to make you happy."

"You already do. What will we do now, without the X Files?"

He grinned at her and dropped his head to her neck, his lips sucking and nipping at the soft, white skin. "Believe me, I can think of a million things I want to do to you, and not _one _of them has to do with an X File."

She closed her eyes and smiled up at the ceiling while his hands trailed down her stomach and between her legs. "Mmmm, I want to believe."

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There will be one final chapter, an epilogue, since this chapter was so short. I hope you enjoy and have a marvelous weekend!


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